Start Me Up
by ADyingGalaxy
Summary: "I don't even like the type of thing you are!" The Galaxy had to be playing a sick joke on them.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Yep... I'm writing this. Rocket/Mantis smut fic because Mantis being 'Rocket-sexual' makes me laugh. Also, I just wanna be able to say that I could do it._

* * *

The creature bearing down on Mantis grinned wide, flashing the woman with rows and rows of tiny, sharp teeth and winding tongue that licked at its stretched, grey lips above her. Mantis quaked as strings of saliva dripped onto her head, closing her eyes so as not to face the look of a beast that very much wanted to take a bite out of her. She prayed that it would kill her first and eat her corpse after, although she would not be spared pain after being dragged off from the rest of the guardians minutes prior.

"Hey! Shit for brains!"

The onslaught of spittle raining on Mantis stopped when she moved out of the way enough to peer over her shoulder. She saw Rocket perched on the jagged hill's edge that she'd been dragged from, and her features relaxed as she beheld his furious gaze and tensed muscles in the fiery light of the sun. He was the first to race after her, and the first to arrive with burning strong anger at his heels on Mantis's behalf.

The sight of him took her breath away.

"Where's the hurry?" Rocket asked, sounding jovial. "I thought you wanted ta play wit' all a' us, but I'm beginnin' to feel left out here."

The creature hunched over her backed away, smart enough to realize it was being threatened by the firepower that Rocket had brought with him. Both it and Rocket growled at one another, silently daring the other to make a move.

Finally, the wolfish Thing walked backward on its reptilian-like feet and retreated into the rocky terrain.

He went in laughing that obnoxious, glee-saturated laugh of his and had two enormous guns blazing in either hand.

Mantis's body tightened as she watched at his retreating figure. A familiar feeling seized her at the sight, all too familiar, and yet the insect woman drew a blank as to what that powerful sensation was called.

It dominated her mind and body until she realized that she'd been mired to the ground floor for too long. Mantis rose carefully, her stomach fluttering so much so that she felt like she needed to laugh. She could feel her legs shaking when she was fully upright, and yet she risked falling to pieces to stagger toward the cave. The thought that she should help Rocket pushed through the mull of everything else until she was grasped by two pairs of hands on her arms.

Mantis looked up wildly, and saw both Peter and Gamora caging her in.

Peter looked at her, relief plain on his face. "Mantis."

"Are you alright?" Gamora asked.

She tried to nod, but became dizzy. "I am okay, yes."

"Are you sure?" Several indents appeared in Peter's brow while he brushed sand and dirt away from the woman's face. "You're not bleeding or anything, right? Did it bite you?"

Mantis shook her head, and smiled at their concern. The warmth that had been building in her lower belly retreated to a safer region in her chest until she felt toasty and loved inside, as well as flimsy. Could a feeling induce motion sickness? "I am, really –"

"Her foot is facing an unnatural angle." Gamora interrupted. Both she and Peter looked down to see Mantis's left foot twisted outward, perpendicular to her right. She could barely touch the ground on it.

"Here, we should," Peter kept brushing at Mantis's face to chase away the dirt and bits of hair before he wrapped an arm around Mantis and positioned her arm around his shoulder. "Get you to the medbay and check it out. There's scanners and antiseptic and… tutorials on handling cyber wolf bites, there. I bet. I mean, I'm sure."

He looked over the top of Mantis's dizzied head. "Will you get Rocket outta the cave and meet us back at the transport? I think we've got all we need otherwise."

Gamora nodded while Peter led his sister away from the audible carnage. Mantis limped next to Peter, but turned back in time to see Gamora moving to the mouth of the orange cavern stealthily. Distant howls, and Rocket's continued laughter, sent a shiver up Mantis's spine.

* * *

"Here. Lie here." Peter helped Mantis take her arm back, then gently eased her onto the cot. The quadrant had come equipped with many necessities preserved after the fallout on Ego's planet, and it was a miracle given their line of work that one of the most prominent necessities was the medbay.

He lifted Mantis's legs over the side of the cot and hissed sympathetically when he got a closer look at her foot. "Shit. I'm sorry I didn't carry you, Mantis. I didn't realize it was so bad."

Peter's hand wrapped around Mantis's the longer his eyes focused on her foot, and Mantis couldn't help but feel his worry and sorrow, along with the faint remainder of his previous fear and adrenaline, seeping into her. She was unsure of whether he knew what he knew what he was doing or if he had forgotten that Mantis could feel as he did through their contact.

Her happiness over his extreme concern for her was odd, as she was conflicted over whether taking pleasure in it was a bad thing or not when it made Peter feel so awful. Mantis's inner debate settled when she caught wind of the anger he felt at himself for letting her be pulled away from their family.

"Peter." Mantis's voice came out raspy. "Please do not be so upset. It was not your fault that I was dragged away."

Peter nodded vigorously – removing his hand from hers in the meantime – but he looked no less troubled. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. Still, it just ripped you from the rest of us, and nobody knew what was going on before you were… just gone."

"I should've been faster." Mantis's face fell at his words. She understood that Peter wasn't territorial, but that he did have a deeply-imbedded fear of losing those he cared about.

It was something that had grown over time to become a larger, defining aspect of who Peter was ever since his mother had passed away. And it claimed more of his motivation to fight each day after the death of Ego and Peter's surrogate father, Yondu. "It could've been worse."

Peter remembered himself after a moment, and sniffed noncommittally before he leaned down below Mantis's cot and shuffled through the compartments below to find a scanner. Mantis wrung her hands while he upended a medkit and took out the largest device, unstringing wires with suction cups attached, and the two watched the cords spiral outward and crawl along the cot down to the floor and beyond.

"Now, I'm not a doc or anything." The captain started, sifting through their medical supplies to see if there was anything more useful, or at least something that would make Mantis's foot heal completely in a miraculous fashion.

"Uhhhhhh, so these… don't go anywhere specific… Right?" Peter turned the scanner on and stared at the reader screen with too-squinted eyes. "Oh, wait. It says 'place wires on pulse points and access of vitals including…"

The mortal man fiddled with the many wires, one eye on the scanner and the other trying to find the proper points on Mantis's body that counted as vitals. He eventually placed most them on her face and on either side of her neck and shoulders, and had asked where her heart was so that he could gently stick a wire on top of her sternum. He did so clinically, and finished it off by putting a suction cup between her eyebrows.

Mantis giggled, lifting a hand to tap the wire. "There are so many on my head already. Why do I need another there?"

Peter grinned, softly. "Well, it says put it over the Mind's Eye if your rituals so incline. Guess that means that some folk like to include their gods when they get scanned, because it makes them feel safer, so I thought we should try it too."

She grinned at him when he shrugged. "Just to be safe."

"Well, I do feel safe." Mantis agreed. She very much did, and wrapped her freed arms around herself in a hug when Peter looked as if he wanted to do so. He wouldn't risk worsening any further injuries to her however, not as long as the scanner was running.

It was some time before the scanner had analyzed Mantis fully, and Peter had filled the monotony of waiting for the results with a story about a boy who could never grow up and whose name was also Peter. Enraptured, Mantis couldn't help pouting when Peter had finished telling the story of how Tiger Lily was rescued by the dreadfully inept Captain Hook and his personal assistant Smee. He was called away by Gamora on the comm., but promised that he could finish the story after they took off from Satno.

She was still laid up on one of the Quadrant's infirmary cots, biding her time with practiced patience, when a commotion broke out down the hall.

At the telltale sound of one brusque, angry voice, goosebumps arose from her skin, and Mantis tucked her legs in that much closer.

Soon enough, Gamora was pulling a bloodied Rocket, whose clothes had been completely shredded and who was still locked in a fighting stance, into the infirmary. She kept her grip on his arm before patting the cot next to Mantis's.

"Sit down." She tugged him, like she was making to throw him onto it.

"I'll do it myself!" Rocket's teeth clacked as he ripped his hand away from Gamora's and stumbled an inch. The raccoon right himself with a glare at the green-skinned woman, who looked less than impressed. She spared a glance at Mantis and offered a gentle, sympathetic smile.

"Would you go already? Mom?" Rocket growled, and the near-purr brought Mantis's easygoing mood to a halt.

Gamora left shortly, rolling her eyes at Rocket's immaturity, and Rocket busily scrubbed at his face with slicked paws as Mantis stayed still.

The bud-like woman's eyelids slid down with the rapidly increasing potent feeling that she had endured on the battlefield. She'd realized while her mind had wandered in Peter's absence that, along with the body constrictions and the sweating that came with thinking back to how she'd been rescued, Mantis's mind would be filled with a sticking fog over Rocket.

The haze, that warmed her body and made her limbs stop working at the most inopportune moments, made her want to run and hide but it had returned again and again in her solitude as a faint alarm of sorts.

It had returned, fully-fleshed, then.

"Eh, bug lady? What're ya doin'? Did ya go deaf down there on Satno?"

Mantis doubled back, and saw Rocket looking at her pointedly. His foot tapped impatiently against the adjoining cot, though his impatience came at the same pace of the song echoing from beyond the doorframe.

"I've been askin' for the medkit for the last five minutes! Politely! What else do I need to do with you people to get a little cooperation, get on bended knee?" He sneered at her, but Mantis's energy was zapped. She didn't have it in her to get offended or let the pang of self-consciousness over her lethargy prompt some action on her part.

She'd never noticed how, with the right lighting, Rocket's eyes shone like the prettiest copper metal on a royal transport vessel before then. They were downright shimmering now.

"Tch! I spend all my time savin' our asses and when I have ta ask for a lil' help occasionally you all… all…" Rocket spoke like he was out of breath, gaze intensely fixed on Mantis while she sat and listened in dead silence.

Eventually they were both silent, though Rocket still panted somewhat, and Mantis was aware of the sweat on her palms accumulating in

"Why are we jus'…" Rocket's voice trailed away.

"Staring at each other?" Mantis finished quietly. Her insides curled at Rocket's peculiar look of confusion, and how she couldn't help but think it was delightful to every sense of hers.

This made more sense than it should have.

Mantis's whole body tingled, and she wanted to laugh and cry once again, knowing that what she was feeling love. Romantic, sexual love.

* * *

 _A/N: There's more. If you want more. O/O_


	2. Chapter 2

_She was sitting in her alcove, happily thumping her foot to the music that filtered all throughout their family's ship. The ship itself was empty, bereft of the noise that came from so many bodies all in one place trying to figure out where they were going._

 _Oddly, Mantis wasn't frightened or busy wondering where the rest of the guardians were. She was in a state of blissful calm, letting herself 'feel' the music as Peter had once taught her to. One had to pay attention to the rhythm of the song, not simply the words that the singer was gifting you with, and not be afraid to get lost in the way that the entirety of the music made you feel._

 _The sheltered woman had questioned the possibility of 'getting lost' in the music before, but like with many questions that were near parroted from Drax, Peter had advised her not to take the phrases too literally and to enjoy herself in her own way._

 _In the middle of feeling her way through the song, in its final notes, Mantis felt warm breath tickle her ear. "What'a'ya doin' lady?"_

 _Mantis whipped around, in time to bump noses with none other than Rocket. She stared eye-to-eye with the resident explosives expert, and was put off by the easy amusement in his gaze. This was the closest she'd ever been to Rocket in a way that wasn't hostile or uneasy. Generally, Mantis kept at a distance from the raccoon more than she did any of the rest of their friends, partially due to the need to preserve her hands in the event that she couldn't contain herself and not pet him, and partially due to reality unfolding for her. Mantis could feel her mind grasping at the concept that Rocket was not a puppy, or a pet of any kind – just as she was starting to grasp that she herself was no pet. Just as she was grasping how to 'feel' music._

 _It took time._

 _"I am listening." She replied shyly. The woman didn't know why she wasn't backing away from Rocket, with his sharp teeth and intense eyes just a hairbreadth away. But she felt no fear, only a lackadaisical curiosity as to why her teammate hadn't backed away either._

 _"Mind if I listen wit' ya?" He asked coolly, forgoing acknowledgement of the unusual closeness altogether. His smile was wide, but not threatening or angry or patronizing. It was warm and crisp, and reached his bronze eyes like he was happy to be near her._

 _Mantis felt her face heat up, but she returned the smile. "Of course. Please do."_

 _Rocket stayed where he was, filling up her view without moving a muscle._

 _"Rocket?" Mantis's brows knitted in confusion and slight discomfort. She was only getting warmer._

 _"Mantis." He never called her by her given name, and while he'd never been so close and pleasant to her at the same time, Rocket had also never, ever initiated closeness like he was then. She could feel his breath on her face, and she could 'feel' him smiling against her –_

 _"Mantis…"_

* * *

"Mantis?"

"Mantis?!"

Mantis jolted on the slab of a cot, and conked her head against Peter's forehead. The Terran groaned, instantly pressing a hand to his head and rubbing fastidiously, and with a glance at him through screwed-up eyes, Mantis copied the motion.

"I am so sorry!" She apologized with a yelp, amid rubbing her forehead despite it not helping in the least.

"No, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." Peter quit rubbing his head and Mantis did the same.

"I just wanted to tell you that we left Satno, and the scan-thing is done. All your vitals – and stuff are totally fine, except for your heartbeat which was a little fast. But that should wear off by tomorrow, since Gamora and Kraglin both think it's just the adrenaline rush from before passing through your system."

Mantis nodded. "That's good to know."

"Yeah! And, oh." The man gestured to Mantis's lower half, where her foot was bound in a dark blue and red cast of thistrik binds. "The muscles in your foot were torn up, but it was pretty mild. Kraglin bound it up for you, and you should be good as new in six standard weeks."

Mantis's feelers twitched. She bent her knee slightly, only to feel the unusual mass of her new cast slow her down quickly. The foot itself felt much better, cocooned as it was with lightweight binds, and she greatly preferred the bulky numbness to the searing pain from earlier.

Peter took her silence for disdain either way. "Hey, I know it sucks. But it's not so bad. I should tell you about the time my boots malfunctioned when I was twelve. I fell from the rafters on the Eclector and... well, I don't remember what happened, but Oblo told me that my head cracked open and I was leaking all over the place!"

Mantis gasped in horror. "Leaking?"

"Yeah, there was a lot of blood, all over the place…" Peter snickered fondly over the memory (or the idea of the memory), but he blanched at the look of pure terror on Mantis's face. "But I was fine! Totally fine! I was back to flying up in the rafters after just a couple days!"

* * *

Mantis was cleared to leave by Peter after he'd helped her get up from her cot and walk around the medbay for practice. It had taken more than a few tries for her to stand up on her own and walk with a comfortable, if not clearly limp, gait.

By the time she was ready to return to her room, many of the guardians were already asleep after licking their battle wounds. For once, the unit-based reward from their temporary pest control mission for the Satno people had been saved and stored for use on Xandar, where they would be making port for the first time since Mantis had joined them.

Unfortunately, the switch from energetic day to indolent night made Peter more than tired. He'd helped Mantis with a fond, friendly smile, but she could see how tired he was by the bags under his eyes and his slumped shoulders. She sent him away kindly, assuring him that she would be able to walk the short distance between the medical area and her room by herself.

Their leader lingered still, but agreed to go back to the Captain's Quarters, which lay in the opposite direction of where she slept after they'd stepped out into the hallway.

Mantis wobbled out of the doorframe, mouth drawn and feeling small. "P-Peter?"

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Um, where is Rocket?" She forced the words out, trying not to let her previous dream affect her as it had before. The imagery of it, and the feelings it wrought, had waxed and waned in the back of her mind like a moon's cycle.

Still, it was a good question, as the bug-like woman could remember him being in the medbay with her before she'd fallen asleep – giving her sideways glances yet turning away in a dismissive manner whenever she returned his gaze.

Peter rolled his eyes reflexively. "Oh. He's probably in the engine room. He's such a sensitive jerk, he's been complaining all day long since we left. Don't worry about 'im, he'll get over it."

While she was unsure of why Rocket was in such a sour mood (not that it was abnormal), Mantis was glad that the raccoon hadn't been seriously injured if he was able to retire to his room as well.

"Goodnight, Mantis. If you need something, just com one of us, 'kay?" Peter laid a hand on her shoulder and looked at her seriously, but returned to his warm, goofy self when she nodded.

"Okay!" She agreed. "Goodnight."

* * *

As she watched Peter walk down the hallway, Mantis ruminated on returning to her room as she should. It wouldn't do to tire herself out with walking on the very same day that she'd been injured, and if Peter or Drax or whomever were to come and check on her, whether she called for them or not, she ought to be in her room.

Peter turned a corner and was out of sight before the girl hobbled down the hallway, away from her room and toward the bridge. An increasingly oppressive feeling of guilt weighed her down along with her bulky cast, but Mantis could only stop along her path to fret so much. She was already 50 ft. away from where the steering and controls sat before she could change her mind for the fortieth time, and in that instant, she saw the familiar outline of Gamora at the control console.

While the most comfortable with Drax, Mantis was less frightened and more thankful that Gamora was the only person awake. She wasn't entirely sure why she felt the need to seek someone out for the uncomfortable feelings that curled around her heart and sent heated fluttering in her stomach. It was simply too difficult to keep it inside, especially when Mantis knew that she technically didn't have to keep her feelings to herself, even if they were scary. She'd considered her options beforehand with a hint of joy, as the knowledge that she could actually tell people if she had a problem and that they would not cast her aside for it was a special kind of wonderful.

The realization of it all was still in the back of her mind and was being blockaded – by what, Mantis couldn't say save for it having to do with how she didn't want to believe it. She didn't know what it would mean to feel this way herself, as she never had before, and the sheltered young woman's only point of reference for her feelings was Ego…

"Gamora." She called, unable to emerge on deck entirely.

The former assassin looked up, only to rear back slightly as Mantis's face came into view, while the rest of her figure was covered in dark shadow. Gamora had never found Mantis ugly or creepy (and treated the descriptors with as much contempt as was appropriate in order to get along with everyone else). Nevertheless, there was something unsettling about seeing the quieter woman, with her enormous black eyes that practically took up three-quarters of her thin face, gawking severely that made Gamora's breath hitch.

"Please, help me." Mantis whispered.

Gamora stood proximately, straight-backed and attentive. There was no one else close enough within the vicinity of both women, and yet her green-clad teammate was hiding like she might be ambushed if she wasn't concealed, which was a good enough cause for the green-woman to worry.

She hadn't gotten within speaking distance however, when Mantis burst in an emotional torrent of words and moans.

"When... Today, when we drove our enemies into the cave, I felt something inside and I did not know what to do." Mantis told Gamora, breathing quickly as if they were still in the heat of battle. "I thought that - that when we got back to the ship, that I would not feel it anymore."

Her lower lip quivered. "But it has taken hold of me all day."

Gamora blinked, stalled by the onslaught. "Hold… Hold on. Mantis, are you ill?"

"I thought the scanner didn't pick up any foreign bacteria in your system?" Gamora immediately pressed the back of her hand to Mantis's forehead, but she didn't rub harshly like Mantis thought she should.

Gamora herself had learned the gesture of touching a loved one's forehead to feel for excessive heat from Peter when she'd contracted Miscu Flu not four months back. She knew now that it was something that Terran mothers did when their children complained of being sick. "Yet you say that something has 'taken hold of you'?"

"I do not know for sure." Mantis confessed. "But... I think that what I am feeling is worse than if I was sick."

* * *

 _A/N: I don't know if anyone is actually reading these, but I hope you're enjoying yourselves._


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm sorry I haven't written in eons. I still love this pairing. I also love reviews!_

* * *

Mantis was still somewhat frozen. She'd been stiff as a board since approaching Gamora and getting dragged over to a nearby outlook's ledge.

She wasn't afraid of Gamora… much. But, to move in this moment seemed wrong, and would no doubt be irritating when the green woman was performing such a delicate task. Her fingers were gently raking through Mantis's hair, pulling at the strands enough to tug at her roots.

That in itself wasn't unpleasant - but it was like being touched by royalty. One wrong move and Mantis could possibly offend her teammate, or make her angry.

"Am I hurting you?" Gamora leaned to one side and caught Mantis's eye. Reflexively, Mantis looked down at the floor.

"Oh, no. No." She chirped. "I'm just… not sure what we're doing?"

Gamora snorted, though the sound was so soft it might as well have been a sigh. "Sorry. You were panicking so…"

The warrior separated Mantis's hair into six parts and began to entwine different strands together in a braid. She'd raised an eyebrow at the uneven length that her teammate had from front to back, but Gamora had faced challenges far greater than this.

"I thought this might calm you." She continued. "When I'm nervous, I often braid my hair."

"Oh." Mantis spoke in awe.

"I've done so since I was a child." Gamora finished. Her hands continued working

She was sheltered, but not so naive that she didn't understand that this information wasn't precious. Gamora had come across as a guarded person since Mantis first met her, and was threatened with a broken hand for even being near her.

They were on much friendlier terms now, but even then Mantis found it difficult to gather the moments when Gamora showed softness or affection. That she'd reveal something from her past was even more of a wonder than when she was kind and open.

It stayed silent for a beat, and Gamora had moved on to setting the next braid with stealthy ease. Mantis found that she hardly minded it, as the barely there pull of Gamora's fingers and the sight of stars whirling by their outlook became soothing just as quickly.

"What made you think you were ill?" Gamora asked in a light murmur. "Or worse? Whatever that may be."

And all of a sudden, Mantis went stiff again and felt her insides jump uncomfortably. "It… It is difficult to explain."

The light pulling stopped for a moment, but went on: a silent inquiry for Mantis to go on and try.

Mantis breathed in. "At the cave, before you and Peter got to me, Rocket got to me first."

The very mention of his name made her stomach clench. "He was very intimidating, when he threatened our foe."

"Rocket scared you?" Gamora asked.

"No, I don't - I don't think so, but when he'd run into that cave, I felt so strange." Mantis wrung her hands together. "I couldn't stop shaking."

"Rocket would never hurt you." Gamora stated.

"I know -" Mantis hurried to dissuade her, but Gamora cut her off without notice.

"But, perhaps you were scared _for_ him." She went over the words slowly, as if testing the thought out. "That would make sense. We were all scared for you when that Lycyber attacked. Yet, Rocket put himself in danger for you."

Mantis blinked, feeling airy lightness in the hollow of her chest. It made her almost breathless, and as though she could somehow float out of her skin and into the compressed oxygen inside the cabin.

"For me?" She breathed quietly.

Behind her, Gamora bunched the five braids she'd made together, then twisted them around seamlessly. Her brow had furrowed a smidge at Mantis's apparent disbelief that they would come save her. It had been some time since Mantis had joined the Guardians, and Gamora had believed that - though it was unspoken - Mantis understood that she was valued as a team member. It mattered to not just her or Peter or Drax, but to everyone that Mantis was safe. Gamora was certain that even Rocket cared, though he tried so damn hard to hide it.

"Any one of us would have done so." Gamora said. "Just as you would have done if one of us was in your place."

Mantis nodded without hesitation. "Of course."

Gamora smiled. She'd both bought and pilfered jewelry from the many different vendors and shops they'd passed since their second return to Xandar, including a group of chainlink hairbands. There were plenty on hand for Gamora whenever she needed them, but it didn't hurt to spare one in this case.

The silver glinted pleasantly against the black as it held Mantis's newfound braid.

"But, Gamora?" Mantis pivoted to glimpse at the green woman's face. "Why am I still feeling it? My heart is still beating so fast when I only just think of what happened."

"Maybe your fears were suppressed?" Gamora said. "You were fine before because you didn't want to frighten us. But now that the danger has fled, you're experiencing what you would have in that moment? A rush of adrenaline."

The answer stumped Mantis. She stared at Gamora before slowly turning back to the outlook. Her reflection beheld a very forlorn expression, highlighted by silver stars still trailing beyond their ship.

It was plausible that what had happened on Satno (and in the medbay) were no more than a twisted nerve elicited by the terrifying experience of being dragged away from her friends. Mantis had been so sure that the heat and the fluttering and the chills that she'd had as Rocket came to her rescue were all a part of her attraction to him.

The feeling had been akin to when Mantis had first discovered Peter's love for Gamora, and before then, at a time when Ego's thoughts meandered to territories that Mantis didn't understand. She'd thought she'd known that feeling better than anyone ever could, despite never having felt it herself.

Then again, Ego had lied about many things. Had manipulated and tricked and harmed those around him, including not just his offspring but his past lovers as well. What he'd projected was perhaps not to be trusted.

Mantis considered the possibility. She'd always been fuzzy on everything that she was capable of, ever since birth on Ego's planet. He'd given her little guidance in the way of knowing herself, most likely because information on her kind wasn't useful for him to divulge.

However, Mantis could conflate the two concepts of love and fear together. She might have displaced herself, having always feared Ego, and mixed the feelings up in her mind until she couldn't pick either apart.

Before long, Gamora had leaned forward and squeezed Mantis's shoulders comfortingly. It wasn't exactly a hug, but the intent spoke volumes and broke Mantis's reverie. "I don't think you're sick."

"It'll go away with time." The woman assured Mantis. Gamora stood and offered Mantis a hand to pull her to her feet.

Internally, Gamora admired her own handiwork. The braid had all but made Mantis a little more approachable. And a little more adorable.

"Don't worry. We'll be headed to Xandar next." Gamora said. "And you'll have plenty of time to calm down and feel safe, again."

* * *

 _Mantis couldn't remember falling asleep - where or when was a mystery. Yet she knew on the spot, as soon as she'd gotten a look at her surroundings, that she was dreaming._

 _Berhart should have long been forgotten. In her mind, Mantis knew that that was impossible, since she'd been cataloging the very few places she'd gotten to visit since childhood. Still, the sight left her uneasy and a bit puzzled._

 _It took her forever to realize that she was in not only a dream, but a memory._

 _A memory of what had never happened._

 _Ego was inviting the guardians to his ship, as they sat around a campfire. He looked proud and charming, like always, as he telegraphed to Mantis that he knew he'd get his way. Ego had had such faith in Peter Quill, and that in itself paved the way for Ego to brim with almost kindly glee._

 _Mantis had heard garbles of sound as she took in the sight of the fire and the blue of the night against her companions, but the dream seemed to solidify when she finally understood what was said._

"… _Even your triangle-faced monkey there." Mantis's gaze tore from Ego's swarthy gate and instantly targeted Rocket._

 _He bared his teeth in defiance of Ego's words, but only for a moment. Mantis watched him blink and pull back, cupping his snout with private indigence and a flicker of hurt. Mantis felt her heart turn into stone at the very sight._

 _Ego had disappeared while Mantis ached, and a tiny part of her understood that though this memory had never been, she couldn't possibly speak out against her former master. No, not even in her mind._

 _She leaned toward Rocket, as though waiting to go to him and offer comfort._

" _I am sorry." Mantis heard herself speak._

 _Rocket's head swiveled in her direction. "What?"_

" _I said I'm sorry." She repeated. "Ego is cruel, and - and he isn't always right. He's wrong."_

 _Rocket's brow shot up, but he didn't say a word._

" _He can't see how wonderful you are." Mantis said. "And it's wrong. You're special and more than Ego will ever be."_

 _He wasn't really Rocket, but the light that touched his brown eyes was painstaking. A touch of reality, because that flicker of hurt before seemed to have shifted to genuine surprise, and even gratitude._

 _Mantis's heart fluttered again, the ache turning into longing._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Filler. I missed writing this, and I have another chapter coming up that's way more proactive.**

* * *

 _Was it a dream or a nightmare?_

 _Ego had pushed her to walk over the rose-colored terrain on wobbling legs. The legs were the hardest part of her growing anatomy that she was forced to get used to. As a larva, she had had nothing more to do than sit in stasis and soak up nutrients and sunlight from one safe spot. Now, as soon as she observed the world outside of her cocoon, she was forced to interact with it._

 _It doesn't matter if it overwhelms her, for her purpose is no longer to ingest what is good for her. Ego is now the center of her world - her world is Ego._

 _He was muttering to himself while he encouraged her to walk, to run, to sprint over the land that he'd created._

" _Your mother was fast." He was smiling, but in a mean way. "Almost couldn't catch her. Lucky for her, playing hard to get always works."_

 _Mantis hops from one foot to the other. "Mother? I have a mother?"_

 _He looked at her disdainfully. "Had, Mantis. You had a mother. She died before you hatched, and left us would be teaching you this if she were still around, not me."_

" _I had a mother." She pieces together. "Will I be a mother?"_

 _His frown seemed to magnify. "You're not meant for that. No one will want you."_

 _Mantis nodded, then burst into tears._

 _She was lying in the dirt desert, feeling hard, ivory fangs sinking into the flesh of her ankle. Death had always seemed distant before then. Inevitable and close, but not imaginable._

 _No one would come for her, not Ego or Peter or a faceless woman in green or brown eyes gleaming from the shadows of a cavernous space._

* * *

Mantis had looked at herself in the washroom mirror and flushed upon the reveal of Gamora's handiwork that night. It had taken some thinking, for Mantis had no true internal measure of what was aesthetically appealing on others. She knew she was ugly, but Mantis had considered at her reflection for a long moment and had almost convinced herself that… maybe she wasn't as hideous as Drax made her out to be.

Not that being ugly was a bad thing. No, she'd learned that it was quite a practical defense when it came to being deceived.

Even if, when she heard it, Mantis's mood fell just the slightest bit each time.

So, she tried very hard to keep the braid intact. And it quickly became an annoying practice. Something so simple like styling one's hair shouldn't have made her want to scream as much as she did.

Aside from the few comments Drax had made about how 'not allowing her face to be hidden by her hair was a terrible idea' and the unidentifiable look on Rocket's face before he scoffed - Mantis liked her new look. She liked it so much that she became determined to learn how to do it by herself until she was almost as good as Gamora.

And so that she wasn't left alone with her troublesome dreams in the day or night.

* * *

Xandar was closer than she'd first believed.

It couldn't have been more than 7 days since the cyber bite incident. Although she'd somewhat neglected the wound during the week, Mantis's injury was healing with time and distant care.

Mantis had taken in the sight of the approaching blue sphere of a planet with awe. She'd been dragged out of bed by (a still careful) Peter moments before, politely listening to him babble about how she had to see it. That was, despite her being almost unable to comprehend words in her sleep-addled state.

When she was actually presented with the visage of it nearing them, Mantis realized that words didn't quite do it justice. Even from so far away, Xandar was so clear and astonishingly blue. If there were any pollutants in the atmosphere to cycle around the planet, like so many others, Mantis couldn't see them.

It made her ponder how they could possibly do it. But she was the only one of course, having never been so far away from her father's corner of the galaxy like the guardians at her side.

Unbeknownst to her, Rocket did a double-take when she appeared. Briefly, his eyes darted toward her hair, messy but still braided from nights before. She hadn't had time to fix it, or even think about it then. Jet black and green tresses stuck up all around the crown of her head as she stood entranced.

* * *

"Mantis?" Peter jumped the last few steps from the Quadrant and landed with unusual grace.

"Welcome to Xandar."

The planet, so clean and pretty, was amassed with energetic beings, milling around and mingling with one another in a careless way that Mantis found fascinating. She saw couples striding across silver bridges and families emerging from hollowed out dwellings full of goods - 'shops'. Every place you looked, there was movement, chattering, and laughter and Mantis had stars in her eyes.

It was such a far cry from the planets that she and the guardians had traveled to since Ego. Mantis had seen almost nothing but people in peril, with no time to dilly-dally or have fun, and seeing it now was a refreshing change - i.e. they didn't need to make their own fun at the expense of their missions.

Children ran around giggling and openly begging for this and that. It caught her attention when a boy with sandy hair and delicate pink skin stopped in front of a window display. He would need to back away to get a semi-full view of the mock Nova ship due to being so short. He should have, instead of pressing his face against the projection that separated the store from the outside.

A woman with the same sandy hair quickly approached the little boy, and Mantis felt worry bite at her nerves. She didn't need to worry at all, however, as the moment the mother was near enough to her kid, she scooped up the pink boy and sat him on her shoulders to give him a better look.

"Hey!"

Mantis pivoted around around a bout of silence, and her gaze landed on Rocket 15-feet away. He glared at her while shouldering a random pedestrian. "Keep up, lady! We don't have time to drag you around all day!"

Anxiousness returned and Mantis was quick to step up to her teammate. She felt slightly sick as she upturned the mechanic's verbal sting, and tried not to hobble too much as she limped with her still-lame leg.

Gamora was the one that slowed to allow Mantis to fall into step with her. The assassin shook her head and clicked her tongue while they walked the strip.

"We'll stop by the mall again, after we're done." She said kindly. "You'll get to see it all, I promise."

* * *

 **A/N: Ah, the wonders of childhood trauma and fearing that children will experience the abuse that you experienced when you were a kid. I hate this, but the next part is going to be better I hope.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I hope this one is better than the last one. Also, I am starting to make good on the promise of this being M-rated fanfiction, so don't be surprised. Thank you so much for the R &R!**

* * *

Their destination was in the farther reaches beyond the crowded public market. A neighborhood of homes that all looked the exact same greeted the guardians. It lay just over an expansive silver and blue bridge built above crystal clear waters where little orange fish swam past.

There was some variety in size, however. Some homes were bigger than others, and thus "stood out" more. As they moved farther into the dedicatedly clipped lawns of blue grass, Mantis realized that they were approaching one of the biggest of them all.

A soft silver glow seemed to emanate from the building as the setting sun touched its outer walls. She quickly noticed with their approach that, in one of the highest windows, a spot of color not befitting of what appeared to be Xandar's overall theme caught her eye. A red slide had been set up just beyond the double glass, built for a small child.

Mantis had only seen slides, and other large structures built for child's play, from a far distance and ever-sparingly before.

But never inside a home.

The insect girl opened her mouth, ready to ask Gamora if what she was seeing was truly what she thought, but the sound of a button being pounded on startled her. She looked away from the window and saw Peter leaning down to a peculiar box attached to the wall opposite of the silvery door.

"Hey, Dey! We're here!" He called, chipper as ever. Everyone else apart from him and Mantis looked completely devoid of emotion as if they were merely killing time. Gamora even rolled her eyes.

Rocket smashed one hand across the button again. "Open up already! We're starving out here!"

The door slid to the right slowly, testing the patience of everyone outside until a woman appeared in the doorframe.

Her skin was pink - just like the little boy and his mother in the heart of the city they'd just come from - as well as her eyes, surrounded by fledgling lines from years of laughter. The woman was already smiling before they'd come face to face with her; it must have been her natural expression.

"Hello everyone." She said, amused. Her finger rose as she pointed at Quill. "Let's see: Peter Quill, Gamora, Drax, Rocket and -"

"I am Groot!" Groot had pounced from his seat in one of Peter's pockets and latched onto Rocket's shoulder, in time to beam up at the kind stranger.

"And Groot, of course." The lady smiled back. "Glad to see everyone is still alive, even though we haven't heard from any of you for months now."

"Well, we have been busy." Peter harrumphed, arms crossed.

The smile on the woman's lips skewed just the tiniest bit as her gaze darted from the baby tree over to the figure that maintained some distance from the rest of the group. Mantis looked into her large pink eyes for a second before looking back at the ground

"I can see that. Goodness," She said. "You've found somebody new and you've already roughed her up."

The guardians opened their mouths in unison, but stopped short at being interrupted again. Heavy footfalls sounded from within the house, before another person popped up. His appearance surprised Mantis, as it bore a striking resemblance to Peter in terms of skin and hair and eyes. Their friend Kraglin was also similar to Peter in those regards, but she didn't know his species. It made Mantis wonder if this man was Terran as well.

"You made it!" The man's gaze zipped around the odd bunch, and fell on Mantis. "And you brought a friend!"

"This is Mantis." Gamora gestured to her. "Our newest team member."

"Hello Mantis." Pink woman smiled sweetly and waved delicate fingers. Her counterpart did the same with infinitely less grace, but no less cheerfully.

"Hello." Mantis mumbled as she bowed her head.

When she looked back at them, Mantis's feelers pulled back with embarrassment as an array of eyes stared right at her.

"Wow, you…. Are not what I would've expected."

"Roman!"

The man, Dey, shrugged. "It's not an insult to her! I honestly have no idea how someone so nice would wanna be a part of this gang."

"We can be nice." Peter pouted, more likely due to the fact that he hadn't been able to get in a word edgewise for at least two minutes straight.

Dey nodded patronizingly. "Sure, sure. 'Nice' for you guys is apparently leaving your friends with 'just' a broken leg. I see that now."

"I am okay!" Mantis piped up. Dey and the pink lady continued to look at Mantis sympathetically, and for some reason it made Mantis want to run and hide. "It's no one's fault."

Beside her, Drax frowned. "We did not contribute to Mantis's injuries. A beast caught her during our last mission." He grumbled.

"A beast?" Dey asked, voice slightly raised.

"Uh, well yeah. Like a cyborg wolf thing, actually." Peter said, sheepish. "It got hairy, but we managed to save the day like always."

"We? We." Rocket didn't bother with anymore pleasantries before pushing past their group and finding his footing in the center of the living room. His eyes narrowed into beady slits as he glanced around the spacious home. "By that, he means I saved the day like always."

"You did not!" Peter's head turned so fast he was in danger of whiplash. He was stomping in through the door to follow after, practically barreling the pink lady over.

It didn't appear to phase her at all, only making her step back to allow the rest of them to file into their home.

"I don't recall you fighting tooth and nail in that cave, then havin' ta get pulled away before you delivered the killing blow to that mongrel." The raccoon's tone was smug.

"And I don't recall you anywhere near delivering a killing blow to anything." Gamora answered back. "If I hadn't been there to intercept you, _you_ would have bled out and died."

Rocket scoffed. "Shows what you know. I've survived shit a thousand times worse than a dog bite."

He sneered at everyone in the room, but Rhomann Dey audibly shushed them. "Language!"

"What?" Rocket's arms went akimbo. "I don't see your lil' snot out here! 'Sides, she's just gonna learn it all on her own whether you like it or not."

"Dad!" A tinney voice sounded from farther in the house, then a round of thundering footsteps for the second time that evening.

Rocket muttered, now none-too-subtly power-walking from the center of attention to somewhere out of sight. "Speak of the devil."

A smaller version of the pink lady came bounding into the room to take Rocket's place as the center of attention. She had to crane her neck upward to see them all (apart from Rocket), yet despite the energy seeming to jitter just below her bubblegum skin, the child frowned.

"They're already here and you didn't tell me?" Her accusatory stare in Dey's direction was adorable.

He bent down slightly to get on her level, brows raised. "I didn't know until like a minute ago either."

"We greet our guests before anything else, Duranna." Her mother admonished, heedless to the chaotic vibe beginning anew in her living room.

Duranna all but rolled her bulbous eyes before waving ecstatically, just as her father had done at the door. "Hi!"

Drax's steely expression (which was just a neutral one, as Mantis had come to find) softened. He uncrossed his arms, shoulders relaxing from their normal locked position. "Hello again, small Duranna."

The girl responded with a wide grin bearing pearly-white teeth. All around her, tension started to melt. When she considered it later, Mantis found it fitting that only a happy child could make her and her family feel more comfortable in proper places.

The little girl skipped her way around the group, making Peter forget his inside voice and ruffle her hair. Duranna's appearance sent Gamora into one of those rare moments where she could smile fondly. And Groot was hanging around Rocket's arm, chattering 'I am Groot' over and over again in excitement.

It was a sweet sight, ending only upon her trajectory toward Mantis by the end. When she stopped in front of the shy woman, Duranna's little nose began to wrinkle as the seconds ticked by, fuchsia eyes studying her with unconscionable intent.

It unnerved Mantis, who felt the compulsion to ensure the child's mental safety rising. She involuntarily began to suck in air a little faster, anxiety starting to grow in such an awful and familiar way. She didn't want to scare Dey's daughter, but she also didn't want to be told she was disgusting. Not now. Not today.

"I've never seen you before." Dey's child said simply.

Her words made Mantis blink, stopping dead in the middle of another big breath.

The insectoid paused. "I am called Mantis."

Danna turned to her father. "Daddy, how come I don't have a doll like her yet?"

Rhomann's expression betrayed the fact that he was also startled by the question. Somewhere in the background, Rocket began snickering.

"Danna!" He scolded.

"Are they still selling those things?" Gamora asked, irritated. "I thought we'd been very specific about that not being acceptable."

Incidentally, the snickering ceased.

Rhomann laughed uneasily, rubbing the back of his head. "Heh, well you haven't been around here for a while now. I guess people get brave in your absence."

Her smile was gone in favor of lips drawn into a tight line. "They won't be before the end of our stay."

* * *

"Call me a skeptic but… I sure as hell don' buy you knowing any 'dealers' of any kind." His chest began to puff as he sneered at Rhomann Dey, seizing him up without issue despite being less than the officer's size.

Rhomann's brow creased in confusion. "Do… Do you think ship dealerships are synonymous with drug and weapons dealers?"

"It's not that hard ta believe." Rocket sniffed. "Nova bein' so militant and all, crime has ta find some real ironic ways to keep under the radar."

They were all sitting around a table, bowls of steaming food set in front of them. Mantis had remained uncomfortable despite the lax approach with which the Dey family and the Guardians interacted with each other. Drax laughed with wild abandon, wolfing down a fourth helping of their meal as Duranna and Groot stuck their tongues out at him. Even Rocket seemed to let go of some of his inhibitions as time went by. He'd been grinning more easily and talking with his hands so much more since they'd crossed the city.

Mantis had barely touched her meal due to discomfort. She played with the spoon that she'd been given for dinner instead, still trying to wrap her mind around it hours later, what with the learned fact that Rhomann Dey was a cop. They didn't like cops, even in the best of times.

Too meddlesome, as Kraglin would say.

Kraglin, who'd wanted to skip their visit, having no love for Nova corps in any way, shape or form.

"Let's play a game!" Duranna grabbed Peter's hand and began to try and yank him out of his chair while he was in mid-chew. He cleared his throat, eyes watering some as bits of food went down none-too-smoothly.

Drax reaching over to thump his back was a thoughtful gesture, if not enough to body-slam the man into the table.

"Are you finished, dear?" Dey's wife - Karman-Kan, actually - looked down at her daughter's plate expectantly. "Oh, not quite. Plenty of green left, I see."

Danna stopped, brow furrowing. "Mom, I can't eat vegetables right now. Groot is here."

Said baby tree, who'd gotten big enough to be the size of a Terran squirrel by that point, swung his stumps for legs over Duranna's shoulder gaily.

"And that matters… why?"

"You can't eat leaves in front of a tree!" Duranna spoke with the patience of a overworked professor. "It's insensitive to his people."

Karman's brow rose. "Mm-hmm."

"It's just one night, Karma." Rhomann chimed in between mouthfuls. "Let 'em play."

Duranna cheered, with Groot following suit (after coming back down from whatever daydreams had crossed his mind). He latched onto the little girl's hair as she ran for the living room and the sound of cupboards flying open and boxes tossed across the floor.

"Everybody has to play!" Danna called out.

Peter shouted back. "Fine. But it can't be the same game as last time!"

"Wha - ? But last time was the best, Quill." Rocket snarked. "Don't tell me you weren't havin' the time of your life in that skirt."

Peter groaned low. "Dude, can you just… not…?"

"You would be a very handsome woman, Quill." Drax said, not even bothering to talk without his mouth being full. "It's unfortunate that the circumstances of your birth left you a scrawny male, instead."

Peter's eyes bulged in offense. "I am not scrawny! I am _far_ from being scrawny. You need to get your eyes checked."

Duranna's head popped out from behind the wall separating the two rooms. "Guys! Come on!"

She stuck out one arm, gifting them with the sight of a toy blaster in one small pink hand. "We're gonna play pirates!"

Gamora stood from her seat, and one of the few places where the table looked anywhere near presentable anymore. "That doesn't sound so bad."

Nearby, Peter's eyes turned dewy and soft. A lovestruck loser if you'd ever seen one. "You're gonna play too, Gamora?"

"I wish to partake as well!" Drax rumbled from the other side of the table. It scraped forward a good five feet as he stood and lumbered away.

Karman snorted, pulling her husband up to join the small parade entering their living room. She wasn't sure why, but the atmosphere had become even more easygoing, if such a thing were possible, and Mantis's face lit up with a smile.

If for nothing else, her happiness bloomed from the joy she saw in the others. And the possibility that they might go up and play on the slide that Duranna had built into her bedroom.

The only person immune to it all appeared to be Rocket, who made his way around dining table slowly, reluctantly. He was grimacing, as if he dreaded playing a child's game far more than being tortured and flayed alive.

"Bunch a' morons." He grumbled as he stood near Mantis's chair.

It felt as if there were worms squirming in the doe-eyed woman's belly. She'd kept much of her feelings, as well as her voice, to herself during their dinner, but was becoming aware of how she'd lingered much too long on Rocket at the head of table throughout. Everytime she looked at him, that terrible sickness that caused tingling in her bones and heat over her skin came back.

He hadn't spared a glance at her at all, however. Not until now, as he came around and side-eyed her rather warily. It was a different sort of wary from his usual. The look in his eyes was tired and almost searching.

It was natural that he'd be so put-out that he'd want at least someone else to understand it and not leave him high and dry. Nevertheless, it was Mantis who remained and Mantis whose face flushed with green at the insinuation that he might be in the mood to share with _her._

"I don't think it's so bad." Mantis ventured softly. "They won't force us to engage if we don't want to, I'm sure."

"Pfft. Oh yeah." Rocket's ear flicked as he moved to scratch it nonchalantly. "Ya know lady, sometimes I wish I had your dumb optimism."

He sighed heavily. "Let's just go and get this over with."

Mantis's mouth formed into the shape of a small 'o' at his words. Her heart was racing within her ribcage as she took him in, and for whatever reason, Mantis felt lighter than air.

She placed a hand on the back of her chair and pulled herself up, her braid swinging wildly from side to side with the challenge. In her haste, she nearly forgot that she had one bad leg that she needed to steady.

Rocket backed up a bit, eyes growing circular as the chair wobbled under her clumsy attempts. "Ey, watch it!"

Nearly forgot, as in - she had forgotten completely.

One moment it was fine, and in the next - Mantis toppled over gracelessly, and she managed to land on the only unassuming person within fifteen feet. Rocket yelled out indignantly before he fell smack against the floor.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" Mantis cried as soon as she was able to look up from her faceplant on the smooth floor beneath them.

They were face-to-face and Mantis had no way of steadying herself as she got a greater look into the brown eyes of her dreams.

Brown eyes that had turned red with fury.

"What the hell is wrong you?" He yelled, making the woman above him wince. "Get offa me!"

Shamefully, Mantis bit her lip so hard she felt tears beginning to fill her eyes. "I-I didn't mean to."

She tried to quell the sting of it, and let herself be shoved back by Rocket's angry claws. And yet, he stopped as soon as he started upon finding his hands were firmly attached to her chest.

It didn't quite register in time for Mantis herself, but for some reason Rocket choked immediately. His eyes widened and paws flew back as if he'd just been shocked. His expression was frozen, only his eyes flitting up from her chest to her face and back. Whatever train of thought going on in Rocket's head seemed to be speeding to get back on track, but his haste to wriggle underneath Mantis to get away from her only made things worse.

"Get - move - flark!" He snarled.

Rocket made to slide out from underneath her, keeping as much distance as he feasible could from her body. He got a third of the way down before being smothered by the woman trying to crawl in the other direction. His limbs flailed, and an angry muffle erupted from behind the cloth of Mantis's suit.

It was a comical scene. But as her bad leg dragged across the floor in their scuffle, Mantis was blind to the world. The dining table in the Dey household was a flimsy thing that, when first molded had bled out into sharp points that still needed grounding through the floor. It wouldn't survive another brush with death after Drax had

"Don't - !" Rocket's shout alarmed her, being so close that it reverberated from within before traveling to her eardrums. At the same time, Mantis turning her head down to stare at him had her cast stopped short of bumping into the table's leg.

She squeaked when she felt his hips angled between her thighs. With one push upward in the perpetual desire to get away from her, Rocket thrust up against her. A shallow gasp made him freeze for the second time, and for a moment Mantis could feel something hard pressing against her.

Another thrust with enough power flipped her over onto her back, and Mantis yelped as she rolled across the ground before landing. Rocket remained in the same spot, slightly panting and getting to his feet faster than perhaps she'd ever seen him. His fur stuck out in crazy directions.

Mantis's whole body burned when she spared a moment to stay in place. She wasn't a telepath by any means, but she was on the spectrum of consciously transmitting and receiving sensations. And _Oh_. The slightest touch between her and Rocket in that moment had made quite the impression.

It was their compromising position that had sprung it; some basic instinctual desire flaring up due to a coincidence of epic proportion. But she was so certain now - now she knew that her previous fears were correct.

Dey cleared his throat, drawing attention away from the fiasco and to the entryway. His face was almost entirely flushed in baby blue. At his side, Karma was blinking rapidly.

"Uh, everybody okay here?"

The two looked up at the speed of lightning, embarrassed in tandem. Rocket groused, teeth baring, before stomping out.

* * *

Danna and Groot were spending the night in Danna's room, and Dey and his wife had been gracious enough to give the Guardians space in both a guest room and their living room. Something about the atmosphere changed the way their team interacted, and Mantis found it off-putting. Nobody appeared to know how to act normally anymore, or what was normal for them at least.

As she'd come to know them, Mantis had observed that her teammates had a habit of sleeping just about anywhere that pleased them. The Quadrant that they'd resided in wasn't really small, per say, but it didn't have as much in the way of separate rooms for all of them. It wasn't uncommon for her to find Drax snoring and curled up to one of the others out in the open, or to see Rocket falling asleep at the helm of the ship.

Here, things were on a different social plane entirely. When the kids were gone, it became apparent that that stifling influence of good citizenship and being guests in a nice house killed their inherent vibe.

Come bedtime, it didn't matter to Mantis. In the dark and among cool sheets, Mantis tossed and turned. She was sweating profusely as what felt like waves of heat in her stomach, and was dipping in and out of sleep since lights out.

* * *

 _Blurring arms and legs, like her mind couldn't focus on just one thing. All that she needed to concentrate on was the savory tingling between her legs and the pressure under her navel._

 _Mantis's hips jolted up from her bed as her body searched for something to rub against. Claws wrapped around her arms and restrained her, she gasped. The weight atop her form was perfect, just what she'd wanted. Something warm and hard, and then familiarly sharp as nails digging into her breasts until it was bordering on painful._

 _She craved friction. Friction was good. Sparks danced and muscles clenched, Mantis couldn't catch a breath. She just needed more._

* * *

Mantis was out of breathe as she sat up from the cot. The alien quickly made a grab for her blanket and clutched it to her chest as her breath evened out.

In the back of her mind, Mantis knew something was wrong. She tried to keep it at bay, but now fully awake, her senses had grown keen again. An uncomfortable sensation, sticky and spilling, was between her legs. Mantis was too afraid to look down and see what was there, but she eventually pulled the covers away from her legs to see a dark spot over the crotch of her pajama pants.

She forced herself to move. Undoing the string tied around her hips and slowly moving her hand below, Mantis's fingers dug beneath her bottoms and down to a zone that she never dwelt on for long. There, she gasped shallowly at the sudden feeling of touching her nethers and feeling wetness the further she reached.

Face burning, Mantis pulled away quickly and stared at her fingers, grimacing at the contradicting feeling of wet and thick substance between them. She feared that if she probed any further, she would find out that the guest bed the Dey family had so kindly given her was ruined.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Warnings for sexual content, unfortunate views of sex work and sex workers, swearing, self-disgust, self-projection and a lack of editing.**

* * *

Despite what they'd have you believe - what they'd have you believe was outrageously authoritative at best - Xandar had slums and dark alleyways and seedy spots all over its shiny utopian city. You had to know where to look, first, but Rocket was never one to miss details. He made quick work of the winding turns from one lowdown building to the next poorly-lit street, working with the daylight that was waning too slowly.

It wasn't a hazardous trip by any means. He'd been around these parts before with the Old Groot and had been confident among strung-out lowlifes and scumbags then.

Yet, it wasn't as easy when you had to stifle your usual range of motion while dealing with a very obvious issue in the way.

* * *

When Rocket returned to their rundown Quadrant just before the sun set on Xandar, he was greeted with the sight of Kraglin twirling his arrow between his fingers.

The lanky Xandarian occasionally threw his weapon in the air and caught it as though it was no more than a child's plaything. He was so casual, and despite the urgency that had Rocket scaling buildings to get back, the raccoon was angered by the sight. He'd taken time out of his life to salvage the Yakka arrow and reconfigure the artificial fin onto the much taller man's head. Rocket had gone out of his way, feeling uncomfortable when he'd had to take it off its previous owner, and to see the former first mate be so noncommital with his gift was insulting.

Though seeming not to notice him stomping through the entryway at first, Kraglin spun on his heels with wide eyes and barely managed to keep the arrow from slipping through his fingers in shock. Obfonteri stared at his teammate blankly, mouth ajar.

He gulped. "Is somethin' wrong?"

Rocket felt the dryness of his throat moreso now than the entire trip back to the ship, then. It was until he closed his maw and remembered to curl inward until he was hunched that he realized he'd actually been growling.

He forced himself into stillness, muscles taut and flexing with the exertion. Rocket swallowed hard and shook his head slightly; for once, he tried to right himself and retract the boiling rage inside of himself.

"No." His voice was surprisingly steady. "So quit starin', idiot."

Kraglin's brow creased, and a little frown formed on his face. He looked somewhat boyish as hurt clouded his gaze and it made Rocket itch.

For a bloodthirsty space pirate, the gangly man was strangely sensitive in many ways and this forever perturbed Rocket. Neither Yondu nor his Ravager clan had been knitting old bitties, but the two survivors they'd left behind were fairly immature and soft despite that.

The lift was still open behind the mechanic, and Kraglin looked over him. "Are the others comin' back?"

With a low and heavy sigh, Rocket began to make his exit, scuttling deeper into the quadrant with one place in mind. He could feel his teammate's eyes return to his receding figure and stare into his back, but trying to explain anything at that moment wasn't worth the trouble.

"It don't matter." Rocket was trying not to jog. Not obviously. "Just stay the hell outta my way."

"But I wasn't in - "

Rocket smacked the manual button to close the hatchway behind him, separating himself from the babbling moron before retreating into the deeper recesses of the Quadrant.

* * *

The first thing that he did after stabbing the button to let himself in the washroom was stand up straight. He gripped his belt, digging his claws into the material as he tugged at it and began to unbuckle, mindlessly tossing his blaster and a few hidden grenades along the way.

Deciding to wear this jumpsuit was the worst decision in the galaxy.

Rocket angrily spat, struggling to not rip (one of three) suits in his to drag the sleeves from his shoulders and tighter band around his hips. The desire to keep things moderately intact was making this agonizing wait even longer.

Several times, Rocket fidgeted with the buckles and straps. When everything was loose enough to pry off, he said to hell with it all and shoved everything downward less than delicately.

The hardness that he had been hiding sprung free, and Rocket groaned melodramatically at the feeling of freedom before eyeing himself. The corners of his mouth pulled back, a hint of disgust souring the formerly hot fluttering in his chest. Hesitantly, Rocket reached out and wrapped a hand around his dick.

The mechanic slumped against the wall as he let his clothes bunch up around his ankles. Rocket's stomach was flip-flopping madly, but that edge of awkwardness had disappeared. He began to grope his still straining erection and hissed at the contact while his other paw dug into the wall for purchase.

Rocket bent over, one hand clutching his knee while the other worked up and down his shaft.

He shook, gritting his teeth over the misfortune of having rough and calloused paws. Momentarily pausing, Rocket spat into his hands and tried again, feeling sweat start to cling to his fur.

"Hrk!" He was already breathing hard. This wasn't the first time he'd ever jacked off in his life, but the problem had been _painful_. A single touch was a relief, and that little bit of fluid was enough to make him feel as blessed as if he was entering the gates of fucking _Valhalla_.

He groaned openly, leaning back again until he banged his head against the wall, trying to keep that feeling. Trying not to think. This was a quick fix, even if it'd been caused by one of the worst moments in recent memory.

It was all that bug girl's fault.

(It wasn't. He knew that. He couldn't admit it to himself.)

Rocket's eyes rolled back into his skull as he damned her existence.

She didn't fit in with the rest of them in the first place. Even Dey had called it. And now everyone around her was paying the price.

(Fuck, but if the memory of her gasping _like that_ when she was _practically dry-humping him_ didn't make him cum faster than the speed of light.)

* * *

Time had passed since Rocket had returned, but how much was uncertain. When he was able to drag himself up to the deck and survey the planet through the viewfinder, he noted that it was well and truly nighttime now.

The moment he'd stepped out of the cubicle, Rocket had felt a heavy blanket of exhaustion fall over his shoulders. It was overwhelming, unpleasant (better than the self-disgust he'd felt in his bones after what he'd just done), causing his arms to fall lifeless and heavy and his padded feet to drag over chromatic floors. If the scraping of his claws against the metal bothered the only other occupant of the ship, Rocket heard none of it.

In fact, as soon as he'd come back out, Kraglin was nowhere to be found.

It made little sense, but a shred of something that was, maybe, possibly worry awoke twinged Rocket inside. Xandar wasn't exactly a favorite for their ex-Nova corpsman recruit. Kraglin wasn't shy about how he held little to no love for his origins, and was relatively tight-lipped over most of the details. Peter was even exempt from a lot of information that filled in some of the gaps, but it didn't take a genius to realize that whatever had happened had made one hell of an impact on the Xandarian. So much so that Kraglin outright refused to leave the ship when they disembarked.

Rocket respected that in a way: even if he was a complete doofus, Kraglin still had standards and beliefs he was willing to own up to. There was probably something to that that Yondu had gleaned as well.. Rebellious bravery or loyalty to your cause or some shit like that.

As soon as Rocket found his seat in the cockpit however, that inkling of worry melted away. He stretched, listening to the sound of his back cracking and his toes popping as he spread them apart. Little clicks and whirrs sounded at the scruff of his neck, but Rocket had long been able to tune out those things. If he didn't focus on them, he wouldn't be bothered and that was that.

Learning to ignore unimportant crap like that was how you stayed alive and kicking, and Rocket had taken it into account as one of his best assets. He wasn't a philosopher by any stretch, and he preferred it that way. Being moony-eyed and airheaded didn't suit Rocket, and mainly existed to get gullible people killed… or like Quill, to make them act as stupidly and embarrassingly as possible.

Scooching down to get more comfortable in his favorite chair - the Captain's chair - Rocket let himself feel smug. Now that all the kinks were out of his system, and he was able to enjoy some actual peace, coming straight back to the ship hadn't been a bad idea.

He knew just where and what to push to pull up the songs that he'd backed up from Quill's zune. Rocket pushed to shuffle.

' _If you start me up_

 _If you start me up, I'll never stop'_

' _If you start me up_

 _If you start me, I'll never stop'_

When he shut his eyes, the total blackness that came with it turned to visions of bare and supple skin. Inky strands of hair, soft and slightly curled, settled upon his face and Rocket swore he could still smell hints of sweetberry cookies and the sands of Satno.

' _I'll never stop, never stop, never stop, never stop'_

Eyes snapped open as the music stopped.

"Fuck that." He deadpanned to no one.

* * *

The night yielded very little in spite of Rocket's weariness. He woke up in the middle of the night twice, always the littlest bit coated in sweat and feeling irritation in overworked muscles. Rocket didn't know if he waking from dreams or nightmares, or if it was the spiced wine he'd drunk at the Dey's home, but it made him itch.

There was reluctance in everything he did when early morning light finally pulled him out of his seat. Getting up was a pain, walking back to the washroom to take a piss was a pain, scavenging their cabinets for food was a pain. Rocket was beginning to feel like an old man by the time he had double-checked the blaster on his utility belt before heading out.

Kraglin had appeared in-between his raids, snoring softly at what was the guardians' equivalent of a dining room table. He'd wrapped his overly-long around himself in a hug, likely trying to warm himself through the cold night.

Rocket couldn't say he wasn't relieved (not out loud, but whatever) to see him there. He wasn't responsible for the man, but Rocket was loathe to imagine looking for him like he was.

Judging by the deep sleep he'd been in and the stink of alcohol over his getup, Kraggle Rock had left just to booze it up. Maybe he'd gone to a brothel, somewhere that peddled actual female flesh instead of synthetic imitations. Ravagers were known for their whoring, after all.

Rocket didn't really get how it mattered whether she was organic or not. He wasn't exactly the type to waste time hunting intergalactic pussy, but it seemed like the overall design was commonplace for hundreds of species. Nevertheless, the lust for it permeated the underbellies of cities like Xandar, the very places that Rocket relied on to keep away unwanted attention. And though it was likely just as desirable (and more attainable) for upper class citizens, the prostitutes that lingered around clubs and bars were a dime a dozen.

Women and men and everyone in-between in skimpy outfits, ready to prostrate themselves for dirty strangers and exchange their dignity for units.

Rocket wouldn't debase himself like that for anyone. And really, he couldn't see any of the women on his team doing so either.

Drax was a hard maybe, and Peter was a hopeless yes, but imagining Gamora being told to strip for somebody was sure to result in that somebody having every bone in their body shattered.

Nebula counted, though she was less of a guardian and more of a nomad. God, she'd probably rip that somebody's entrails out of their body with that chance.

Even Mantis, with her dewy-eyed stares and tendency to sway from side to side on rounded hips that were visible with or without less clothes, as she tried to learn how to dance or how to fly the Quadrant with minimal help… even with her very real, very soft flesh that he'd accidentally gotten a handful of yesterday…

She'd probably be so eager to please, probably the perfect person for a sleazebag to take advantage of. A woman that was the definition of an adorable waif, smiling in excitement as she complied with undressing herself for that sleaze. She'd be nervous (maybe ticklish) but would become engrossed in the wonderful way they could make her feel. A sleazebag like that would be (absolutely) greedy, leaving no span of skin untouched, in awe over how _she_ could _want_ him to touch her.

She'd want him, need him, try in vain to keep herself from crying out for more of him.

Stopping in his tracks, Rocket stared blankly at the field of blue grass he'd been shamelessly uprooting as he trudged through a mostly empty park. A Xandarian woman thankfully jogged right past him, but there was also a couple a few yards away looking directly at him. They must've been debating amongst themselves if he was actually one of The Guardians that had saved their asses a year back.

A familiar and painful throbbing between his legs brought Rocket's attention back to reality.

His brown eyes widened to the size of saucers. " _Are you fucking kidding me?!_ "

The couple had been coming closer, but jumped back at his exclamation. That, and the sight in front of them was enough to make them flee like they were on fire.

* * *

"Dude, where have you been?"

Rocket didn't want to even look at Quill, but it was second-nature now to insult him while making direct and purposeful eye contact.

"None of your business, Starboy." The usual glee that came from insulting their 'leader' was replaced by a more gravelly rasp. He was beyond tired.

Peter's back straightened, lips thinning until he looked like he was sucking on a lemon. "It's not Starb - No. No, don't change the subject. Dey and Karma said they saw you storm out of the house last night!"

The hybrid man crossed his arms. "And you never came back. Why?"

"You're not my mother, Quill." Rocket grumbled. "You don't need a log of what I do every frickin' day."

"I'm your captain." His inflection turned up, as though he was demanding confirmation.

"Even a captain doesn't watch his crew 24/7, smartass!" Rocket bit back. His paws balled into fists at his sides as he stared up at Peter's smarmy face. "We don't need ta answer to you all the time about every little' thing!"

They had flown over to the dealer that Dey had suggested was "best" for them, but the journey from the ship to their destination was dragging. Groot had stayed behind because, despite being happy to see Rocket returning, he had wanted to continue playing with Danna. Rocket had been close to persuading the kid otherwise with some handy reverse-psychology, but then Groot had pulled out those big eyes and that pouting face. The promise was quashed in seconds.

Groot would've been a great distraction from it all, but regardless, Peter had been sending dirty looks his way since Rocket had re-joined them out of the blue.

It was like Rocket had personally insulted the Terran's mother or something. The others - Gamora, Drax, Groot, too - they wore frowns and asked after him but didn't persist. That he was there and in one piece was enough for everybody except Star-Munch.

Still.

Peter being an tantruming toddler was small parts to seeing that Mantis was right there, caught between trying not to look at him directly and sending wistful looks in his direction.

(He hadn't made eye-contact with her. He wouldn't. It was pitiful and impossible but if he looked, Rocket knew that, with a chill running down his enhanced spine, she would see everything he'd done since their last encounter.)

"Yes, you kinda do!" Peter glared. "You think everybody on Xandar believes we're god's perfect angels? If you needed help, we wouldn't know where to look first, stupid!"

Rocket scoffed. (Not true).

"You also think scaring Mantis and then walking off is okay?" Peter grew somewhat sober. Rocket's feet didn't stop, but his ears twitched. "She was panicking after you went, and she hasn't said anything since."

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing." Rocket snapped, too quickly. "The bug is just a big klutz. She fell on her ass and got all sensitive about it. I told her to knock it off and she took it too hard, that's all."

Peter's arms drifted apart, falling to his sides. "That's not what Dey said."

"Guys!" Ahead of their group, Rhomann Dey managed to curb his irritation with how slow they were being as he held the door open for them. It was dysfunctional; closing in and out, and no doubt cutting circulation from Dey's hand to his arm. (Social etiquette really didn't win you anything, did it?)

"Can you hurry up? Please?"

Rocket let out a long breath. He made strides to follow Rhomann and left Peter behind with a patronizing wave. "Listen to what Dey's sayin' now, Chief!"

* * *

Big surprise. The place that Dey had raved about was just as blandly designed as everything on this cruddy planet. Blue and silver walls with silver standing desks that looked about as useful as those bulky old holovid machines (VCRs!) that Peter had shown them during space charades.

Geezers in suits proliferated about these useless things, staring at screens and typing as fast as their fingers allowed on their tablets. Not all were Xandarian, and Rocket got a bit of a kick out of seeing a Yarkora man in an ill-fitting suit stumbling around all these greasehead Xandarians. Dude was probably on the lowest rung in their business hierarchy. He seemed to be pretty damn fidgety even sitting still for two minutes.

Hell, Rocket would be fidgety too if he had to stay in this office for days on end, waiting on pricks.

Dey turned to the group and raised his hands amicably. "Wait here. I'm gonna go get Elak and then we can head back out into the lot."

Naturally, as soon as the corpsman turned his back, they split up.

Rocket turned his attention to one of the enormous windows leading out into the sea of ships that they'd come there for. He was soon close enough to press his nose to the glass and analyze as much as he could from far away.

Everything was sleek enough to make you drool. Rocket pinpointed one with a visible, burning red-colored interior through its tinted viewfinder. The cockpit was too small, but for the moment it didn't matter. The wings were practically vertical slats connected by u-shaped rungs at their tail, fanning down to surround its bulk like a bat's wings.

Beside it was a shorter, more rounded design with bolts of yellow encasing its burners. It ranged on the expensive side from sight alone, since those babies had to be extraordinarily nuclear heat-resistant. It was also too small, but tapped one claw against his maw, thoughts turning.

They were going to be leaving Xandar as soon as they found The ship, but Rocket was quick and easy to forget when he wanted to be. Maybe those thunderbolts need not be ignored for the sake of practicality.

"Don't even think about it." Rocket was caught off-guard as Gamora's hand swatted the back of his head.

Rocket twisted around, snarling viciously. But Gamora only raised a hairless brow.

She stared him down, willing him to make a scene and… and it was no fun going against Gamora. (Almost) nothing got to her.

"... I wasn't really gonna do anything…" Rocket said.

Gamora's arms folded. "You forget yourself, Rocket."

She shook her head once before turning her back on him. In return, he stuck his tongue out at her in spite.

 _Pfft. You forget yourself._ Rocket complained internally. _Yeah, sure, not like you've ever done anything that you were told not to a hundred times,_ _ **assassin to Thanos**_ _._

Already having been in a lousy mood prior, Rocket's steam faded quickly. He scanned the rest of the building with disinterest, and found his gaze gravitating from Drax crushing a purple-faced Peter with a side-hug in front of a crowd of yes men to a certain insectoid.

She was detached from Drax for the time being, for once a loner as she peered at shifting images framed upon the walls.

Most of it was advertisement for the dealership, and Rocket didn't need to look too deeply to see the schmaltz and the overly-happy actors posing in front of popular brands. That crap was best ignored, since most of what was promoted was flashy, useless additions to ships nowhere near as good as marketed.

It didn't surprise Rocket that she would be drawn to the bright images however. Mantis was a fan of shiny and bright things, in general. Whether it was from her upbringing being mostly barren of technology that wasn't under Ego's thumb or if it was some sort of hereditary thing from her mother's gene pool, it was bound to dumb the chick down.

She already had Drax for that.

Rocket watched for a little bit, though his eyes glazed over while waiting for Dey to get back from wherever he was so that they could get this show on the road. Idly, he wondered why the hell smalltalk had been invented when something moved just outside his line of vision.

A dealer was walking toward Mantis, hands folded together like a cartoon villain. This man was just as greasy as his coworkers, but he was considerably younger with lilac-colored tentacles for hair. His eyes were so pale that the most you could make out in them were the black pupils within.

Was he acting prejudiced? Maybe. But the weird eyes and the hunching shoulders of this man, whose species Rocket couldn't quite identify, were red flags.

Gaze narrowing, Rocket continue to watch from afar. He picked at a claw, following the action beat by beat. It looked like tentacles simply saw what everyone with more than one braincell would: a vulnerable, ignorant woman to easily be swayed into buying something.

But he stopped short, making Rocket perk up, nonchalance thrown out the window while zeroing in. It took a moment, a second, half of a second, but reality hit as the guy not-so-subtly stared at Mantis's ass.

Fuck not subtly. He was grinning lecherously like a predator, the kind that knew just how to get what he wanted.

And fuck red flags. Rocket saw _only_ red when he started moving.


End file.
